


summer girl

by mysteriesofloves



Category: Gossip Girl (TV 2007)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Secret Relationship, Summer Vacation, but not really, serenate is a background ship, what happens in the hamptons stays in the hamptons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:28:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23233990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysteriesofloves/pseuds/mysteriesofloves
Summary: He was a fool for going up against her.
Relationships: Dan Humphrey/Blair Waldorf, Nate Archibald/Serena van der Woodsen
Comments: 70
Kudos: 346
Collections: KnightsofAce Favorite Fics





	1. fever dream high

**Author's Note:**

> The result of too much time on my hands and needing to live vicariously through these characters on summer vacation. Season 2 Summer in the Hamptons AU. 
> 
> This is the first of two multi chapter fics I’m working on currently. I wanted to say thank you for all the kind comments and support! I got back into fic as a sort of writing exercise and I’m glad people enjoy it and the dair fandom lives on. Hope you’re all well.

She can hear Serena’s moaning through the walls. She freezes in place, the hot water drumming down onto her. It’s a familiar noise, something she grew up overhearing. But it’s different this time, the distant sounds of rustling, the name she’s breathing out. 

Blair is struck back into reality, cursing when the suds of her shampoo drip into her eyes. 

Her bags had been stuffed full of swimsuits and sun hats, and she’d waited on the hot tarmac for hours. By the time the sun was setting over the skyline, she’d called Serena, dejected and demeaned. 

_Come with me to my Grandma’s!_ Serena had said. _It’ll be fun!_ Serena had said. _Nate and Dan are coming too!_ Serena had _not_ said, and when Blair stepped into the Rhodes summer house, she was met with Nate, holding Serena bridal style at the top of the stairs, and Dan standing in the foyer, in a cheap pair of sunglasses. 

It had been almost two weeks since then, and Blair had spent most of her time in or around the pool, eating takeout in her room, and drinking an abundance of mojitos, almost entirely alone. 

She was okay with it, she told herself. She didn’t love Nate anymore, not like that anyway, and Serena did. Blair wasn’t going to get in the way of that. She was okay with this. She was not _happy_ with it, but she was okay with it. 

She was not okay, however, with feeling abandoned by everyone she held close to her. It was one thing to not sabotage the relationship, it was a whole other thing to have to listen to them fuck every day, while Blair herself was getting, precisely, none. 

She rubs her arms and legs down with lotion, spritzes her hair with salt spray (just the right amount, real salt water would be excessive), and walks out in her robe, onto the wide balcony that hangs over the pool. It’s a beautiful view, overlooking East Hampton, the waves of the Atlantic simmering under the sun. She wonders what Cecilia Rhodes felt, when she was her age, standing on this balcony, the distant sounds of laughter carrying in the wind. How many times she felt completely alone, and embarrassed because of it. 

It’s all very picturesque, the hedges fencing them in, the trees swaying in the hot wind, the silk of her robe against her gently tanned skin. It’s all harmonious, really, from a visual standpoint. If nothing else, she has that. She takes a sweeping look around, then down. The empty pool glittering, the bright pink flowers lining the insides of the hedges, the Dan Humphrey in a lounge chair. 

Dan Humphrey, in the Rhodes house, lounging by the pool, reading some plebeian fiction. Is nothing sacred? 

She throws on a bikini underneath her robe and pads down the stairs barefoot.

* * *

He feels a figure in front of him, and looks up to see Blair peering down at him. He’s had this nightmare before, but he usually woke up just after she bared her fangs and dove to rip him to pieces. 

“What’re you doing here?” She asks coldly, taking a seat on the chair next to him. 

“They’re cleaning the pool at Nate’s,” he replies, looking back down at his book.

“No, I mean, here. Your best friend is dating the ex love of your life and you chose to spend the entire summer with them and someone who hates you.” 

“I -“ Dan doesn’t know what to say, because he doesn’t know what he’s doing there. It would probably be something along the lines of, _I’ve watched from afar all this time, and now I’ve been let in. Why would I let this all go?_ But he tries not to think about it, so he settles for, “I’ve never been to the Hampton’s.” 

Something like bemusement plays in her eyes. She smells sweet, like coconut, he notices. 

“I could ask you the same thing,” he says. “Sounds like we’re in exactly the same boat.” 

Blair looks out at the pool indignantly, where a float shaped like a seashell drifts idly. 

“It’s not Tuscany, but it’ll have to do.” 

Dan doesn’t ask what she means by that, going back to his book again. But it’s hard to focus on the words, under the presence of a judgmental stare. 

“Do you need something?” He says, and it comes out sounding ruder than he meant. She scoffs, standing. 

“From you? In your dreams, Humphrey.”

 _You are,_ he almost says, _with your venomous fangs and devil horns._

The robe she’s wearing slips open, exposing a bit of bare stomach. She pulls it back closed, and turns to walk away.

“Are they having sex up there?”

Blair hesitates, like she’s going to keep walking, then decides to stay in place. 

“Do they know how to do anything else?”

Dan chuckles, shutting his book. It’s no use, now.

“You sound bitter.”

She hasn’t fully turned around, looking a bit awkward just standing there. He’s never seen Blair Waldorf look awkward. 

“Aren’t you? Your ex is going to have riotous sex with your best friend all summer while you sit here reading.” 

“How do you know I’m not having riotous sex when I’m not reading?” 

She does turn to him then, if only so he can see the full force of her eye roll. 

“Okay, fine, but how do you know I won’t have riotous sex any time this summer?” 

She gives him a scrutinizing once over, chilly enough to make the hair on his arms stand. He’s a fool, he thinks, for going up against her.

“You’d have to find someone in a 120 mile radius that would be interested.” 

He shakes his head. He wants to smile a little, make a comment about the trivia in her quip. He settles for saying nothing. He’s a fool for going up against her. 

* * *

_Sounds like we’re in exactly the same boat._

_How pathetic_ , she thinks, walking into the kitchen and snapping her fingers for a fresh drink, _being in the same situation as Dan Humphrey._

That night, she’s able to pull Serena away from Nate long enough for dinner and drinks at Maidstone. They sit on the patio, a chilled bottle of white between them, the twinkling lights strung above making Serena’s eyes glint. It’s comical, almost, the way Serena’s smile sparkles like a cartoon. She charms everyone around them: the waitstaff, the next table over, the old woman she helped cross the street on the way over. 

Something hollow resides in Blair’s chest. She understands it. She’d choose Serena too. 

“You’re so quiet,” Serena says softly, reaching her hand across the table. Blair shakes her head, almost pulls away from the touch, but tries to settle into it.

“Sorry, I’m just thinking.” 

Serena does that pitiful pout that makes Blair’s stomach turn. 

“About Chuck?”

She has to restrain herself from rolling her eyes. 

“You should have some fun, B.” Serena says, as if that much isn’t obvious. “Pick up a lifeguard or two! Or I think I saw some hot waiters in the back.”

Blair brings her glass up, covering the lipstick ring with her mouth. She was supposed to be having fun with one person, the _same_ person. There was a small part of her, an inconsequential part, that was still hoping to see Chuck step out from the back of a limo at the gates of the house. Hoping that maybe, just maybe, he would come to her. Until she could come to terms with the fact that her summer wasn’t going to be what she expected, she couldn’t bring herself to have any fun. It was something Serena wouldn’t understand.

“Yeah,” she says between sips. “Maybe.”

The next morning, the house is completely quiet, except for the hustling of the staff in the kitchen downstairs. She goes through her same routine, and when she steps out onto the balcony, she’s met with that same figure stretched out by the pool below. 

She’s not liking this pattern.

She coats her nails in a pearlescent pink, her elbows propped up on the cold marble of the kitchen island. She admires her handiwork in the sunlight streaming in, the shimmer glistening. Then, an overcast interrupts her. 

“I thought Nate invited you to stay at _his_ place. Seems like you’re here every day.”

“Serena stayed over last night. They’re getting fucking unbearable.” 

Dan crosses into the kitchen, picking up an apricot from the fruit basket and rubbing it against his shirt. 

“And Cece said I could come around here whenever I wanted.” 

There was _so_ much wrong with that sentence. 

“ _And_ Nate’s mom scares me. She turns her nose up at me more than you do.”

Blair lets out a small snort, not able to help herself. Anne had always liked her because she was _like_ her. And Nate was like his father. She wasn’t so sure those were good things anymore. 

A few of the staff come bustling in, getting preparations ready for a dinner party Cece is hosting for the Hamptons Ladies Society of Whatever. 

Blair hops off her seat, opening the fridge to top off her glass of lemonade. Dan shifts to move passed her, placing a light hand on the small of her back to get her to let him by. The contact sends a shiver down her spine. 

This is a problem. She has a problem. 

“What’re your plans for today?” Dan asks, chewing through a bite of his apricot. 

“Meeting Eric at the beach to pick up a lifeguard off duty.”

He reaches out to hold the fridge door over her head, and peers into it himself. He lets out a low hum. 

“You don’t seem like a beach person.”

She has to duck under his arm to get out, her elbow knocking lightly on his ribs. He laughs, touches the spot like it’s tender. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

Dan shrugs, pouring himself a glass of lemonade. 

“Sand between your toes, in your hair, all that.” 

She bites her tongue. He’s not wrong. 

He closes the fridge and leans his back against it, letting the catering staff pass. 

“You’re not really going to the beach, are you?”

She doesn’t ask how he knew that, just shakes her head slightly. 

“I’m going to watch a movie.”

“There’s a theatre around here?”

Blair shakes her head again. 

“I’m going to watch it in the den. I brought DVDs.” 

A hint of a smile curls on Dan’s mouth. 

“What’re you watching?” 

“ _La Piscine._ ” She answers smugly. She takes a sip of her lemonade. 

“Good choice,” he matches her tone, mimics her movement. 

“ _You_ like French crime thrillers?” 

“I like a lot of things.” He says, making his way back through the sliding doors to the pool.

* * *

He stands behind the couch in the den, leaning against the door frame. He tries to watch Jane Birkin lounge around a pool in the French Riviera, but ends up watching Blair instead. She’s curled up on the couch, feet tucked under her knees, her hands sitting in her lap the way they would if she were sitting on the steps. She’s small, he realizes, much smaller than Serena. 

Of course he’s noticed Blair, everyone’s noticed Blair, she makes it hard not to. He’s known she was pretty, all prim and put together. But he was usually too scared of her to really see it. 

There’s something different about seeing her like this, in a way most wouldn’t get to. She’s not wearing any makeup, or at least none visible to him. Her hair is lighter than usual, tied up out of her face. She’s wrapped in her silk robe, the only thing he’s really seen her in for the last two weeks. 

Unlike Serena, who saunters around the house and pool in her floral patterned swimsuits, Blair keeps herself covered with a robe or cover-up, almost always. 

He’s had a lot of time on his hands to notice these things. 

He watches her bring her hand up, tucking a stray hair behind her ear, then her lips purse, and - 

“You can sit down. Contrary to popular belief I don’t actually bite.” 

He laughs lightly, a little unsure, as he takes a seat. There’s enough space for three people between them. 

By the time Birkin and Delon stand together under the tree, their faces close enough to touch, and Dan rubs at the back of his neck uncomfortably, the front door opens to the sound of the giddy laughter of their golden tanned friends. 

“Oh, you two!” Serena croons, taking the seat between them happily. She looks between them, that pearly white smile shining. “Friends?” 

Blair lets out a half-hearted scoff, looking over at him. 

“No,” Dan says. “Definitely not.” 

Nate laughs, taking a seat on the floor in front of them, his shirt unsurprisingly missing. He brings a hand up to rest on Serena’s calf. 

“Have you two been cooped up in here all day?” 

When Dan looks at Blair, she’s looking at him, too. 

* * *

Nate suggests the four of them go for dinner in town, which ends up with her pushed into a booth with Dan, Nate and Serena wanting to sit next to each other so that they can kiss, and kiss, and kiss, enough to make Blair vomit involuntarily. 

Dan’s legs are pressed against hers, and she makes a half-hearted crack about Brooklyn germs, too hot to commit herself to it. Her clothes stick to her, and the little air flow from her menu turned makeshift fan isn’t doing much. 

The conversation ebbs and flows, both her and Dan making a point to avert their eyes between kisses. Halfway through the second bottle of cold wine, Dan chuckles dryly, leaning his head back against the booth. He turns to look at her, eyelids heavy, and she thinks faintly that he looks like a tired puppy. Wet dog, she corrects herself. 

“What other movies did you bring?” He asks quietly.

“ _Nights of Cabiria, Le Bonheur, Gilda.”_

He nods a little, and his glass is pressed against his mouth but she thinks he might be smiling.

They end up in a tipsy but heated debate over which Rita Hayworth film is the best, only stopping when they realize that not only are Nate and Serena staring, but so are the next table over.

“She was married as many times as my mom, you know.” Serena says to break the silence. Blair catches the way Nate’s fingers tighten in hers. “She had such a sad life.”

Serena doesn’t clarify whether she means Hayworth, or her mom. Nate reaches to take the glass from Serena’s other hand, placing it away from her. He gestures for the cheque. 

“No parent talk,” Blair says, pushing away her own glass. “We promised.”

Serena nods, her lips tight and eyes blurred. 

The four of them cram into a single cab, the streets too hot to wait or walk. The girls get out first, Nate helping a wobbly Serena up to her room and kissing her goodnight, while Dan waits in the car. 

Blair ducks her head down, back inside the cab, after getting out. 

“That was fun, Humphrey.” She says, the wine doing all the talking. “You’re not horrible company.”

* * *

He walks through the unnaturally green grass, the moisture coming up around his sandals. The house is so grand, you have to tilt your head up to see the top, which he does, shielding the sun from his eyes. In the window, he sees Blair, the glass opened just a crack, the wind lightly fluttering her hair. She’s looking down, reading, or on her phone. Before he can register what he’s doing, he calls out her name. 

She turns, looking around, confusion on her face. When she spots him, something uncertain washes over her. Disgust, probably. But maybe relief. 

She sticks her head out the window. Definitely disgust. 

“Is Nate here?” He yells, squinting up at her. She shakes her head, then stays still, expectantly. He waves his hand, gesturing for her to come down.

“Wanna go for a walk?”

There’s a moment, a flash, where contemplation sweeps her. Then her face scrunches up.

“No, thank you, I would not be caught dead with someone wearing Hollister.”

But she stays still. 

“You want me to beg, Waldorf? I’m alone, you’re alone, let’s be alone together.”

The banality of being outside, calling up to a girl in a window, isn’t lost on him.

Again, that contemplation.

“Gossip Girl might see us.”

“She doesn’t take summer vacations?” He asks, seriously.

Blair shakes her head. A stilted moment passes, then she says,

“Come inside.”

He does, entering the grandiose foyer of the house. He stands there for a second before she comes out, standing at the top of the stairs. She’s wearing a sundress, white with yellow flowers. Something strange surges in his stomach when he sees her. He’s been doing that a lot, seeing her. The day before they’d watched _Le Bonheur_ in the den, with less than four feet between them this time. The strange thing is that he likes it, spending time with her. Even when she’s mean to him, she’s funny, smart. He likes arguing with her, likes being shown up by her, likes getting under her skin. He even thought about her in the shower this morning.

He blames it on the heat. 

She takes the steps down slowly, her hand trailing the bannister. 

“Fancy a swim?”

Dan shrugs, trying to be casual. They walk through the foyer and out back, where the pool cleaners just finished up. 

“What’re you think they’re doing?” Dan asks, wiping the already accumulating sweat from his brow. “Nate and Serena?”

“Being sickeningly sweet over brunch and making everyone else feel bad about themselves?” Blair offers, and the laugh he was going to let out gets caught in his throat when she unzips and drops her dress unceremoniously onto a lounge chair, revealing her light blue swimsuit underneath. She takes a careful seat on the edge of the pool, dipping her manicured toes in. 

Dan’s glad he came wearing swim trunks, so he didn’t have to go scavenging for a spare pair of Nate’s lying around. When he pulls his shirt off, he’s hyper aware of Blair’s eyes on him. He drops down into the pool without delay, just to cool off.

“Aren’t you going to get in?” He asks, looking up at her from the water, while she studies him.

“I’m testing it out,” she says. “If you pull me in I _will_ have to kill you.”

He puts his palms up, backing away. Her face scrunches up, like she’s trying to contain a smile. This is so strange. 

He swims back over to her and hauls himself back up onto the edge, sitting next to her. 

“This is strange, isn’t it?” He says, and turns to see her big doe eyes looking up at him.

“What is?” She asks innocently.

“You and me. Being friends.”

“We’re not friends, Humphrey.” She says, but she’s smiling, just a little.

He doesn’t know what to say, so he does the only thing he can think about in that moment. He kisses her. Even more surprising, she kisses him back. She tastes like waxy, cherry chapstick and sweet white rum. She opens her mouth under his for just a moment, before pulling away. Something like fear trickles down the back of his neck.

“I’m sorry,” he says, the words spilling out of him. “I wasn’t thinking.” 

“Do you ever?” She pushes herself up and stomps back into the house, not bothering to pick up her dress.

He was a fool for going up against her.

  
  



	2. summer’s a knife

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last thing she expected from this summer was to kiss Dan Humphrey, but all those years of meticulous planning, being ten steps ahead of everyone else, where had that gotten her?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i finished this chapter faster than i thought i would but the next one is going to take me a little longer so sit tight!
> 
> trigger warning for talk of eating disorders in this chapter.

She has a problem. 

It wasn’t so much the kiss itself that caught her off guard, but that she had liked it. It was spontaneous and insistent, and just wrong enough to make her want more. 

She always wanted things she couldn’t have. 

The last thing she expected from this summer was to kiss Dan Humphrey, but all those years of meticulous planning, being ten steps ahead of everyone else, where had that gotten her? Right here, apparently. Maybe it was time to start living a little more like Serena.

Or a lot more like Serena. 

* * *

He’d done his best, but Blair is becoming unavoidable. 

It’s been almost a week since he kissed her, and he’s tried to steer clear of her presence at all costs, not wanting to face the embarrassment. It’s hard, with the close proximity of the Archibald and Rhodes houses, and Nate and Serena insisting on having breakfast or dinner with them and Eric every day.

Blair is difficult to avoid. Her lips around a strawberry at breakfast, sipping lemonade through a straw. The beauty marks on her bare shoulders, on the back of her legs, just visible under her sundresses. The steel cut of her glare when she catches him staring. 

Well, maybe he’s not done his _best_. 

With no sign of Nate returning any time soon, Dan wades through the hedges, going to see if Eric wants to head to the beach. He makes his way through the back doors, and is met with Blair floating serenely in the sun. At the sound of his footsteps, she looks up abruptly. He waves the book in his hand around awkwardly, gesturing to the house behind him.

“Uh - Is Eric here?” 

Blair shakes her head, water droplets flying. 

“He went to the market. He should be back soon.” 

Dan nods, turning back around. 

“You can wait here,” Blair says. “I was just getting out.”

And because Dan hasn’t thought with his head since summer started, he takes a seat, opening his book to a random page and pretending to read. Blair climbs out of the water, picking up a bottle of sunscreen from the ground and taking a seat on a chair at the other end of the pool.

“I think he met a boy,” Blair calls from over the water. “At the market. He’s been spending a lot of time there.” 

Dan nods, his tongue feeling too heavy in his mouth to speak. He watches her rub down her arms and legs with the cream. 

He focuses on the page, trailing his finger on the words, as if that’ll help. Suddenly, a shadow casts over him.

Blair holds out the bottle of sunscreen expectantly. 

“Get my back for me?” 

He blinks up at her stupidly for a second, before taking the bottle from her. 

She seats herself on the foot of his chair, her hands gripped to the edge. He squeezes out too much on his hand, and she gives him a chastising scoff over her shoulder. He sits up, dotting her back with dollops of the cream, and she makes a small noise, like a giggle, at the coolness of it. 

Her skin is already warmed from the sun. He rubs it over her shoulder blades, the plain of her back, down her spine. Before he can register what she’s doing, she has the back of her bikini top unhooked, holding the fabric up against her chest. 

“I don’t like tan lines,” she says innocently. 

He rubs the cream into the exposed spot, and lets out a breath that makes the hair on the back of her neck stand up. She turns, abruptly, and Dan has to maneuver his face away fast so their noses don’t bump. 

“Do you regret it?” She says, her voice haughty. “Kissing me?”

“No,” She’s so close he can barely keep track of what to say. “I’ve been wanting to do it again ever since.” 

She bites at her lip, the sun catching the glint of her gloss. She leans forward, not having to move far, and catches his mouth in a kiss. He opens up to her immediately, hand going up to cup her cheek, then moving into her hair. He takes in the smell of chlorine, the sunscreen on her shoulders. She teases his bottom lip between her teeth. 

He pulls away in a haze, his own lips a little tacky with gloss. 

“Someone could see us,” he says, and internally scolds himself for breaking the moment. 

There’s something there, in the way her brows knit together so slightly, but it passes imperceptibly. She hooks her top back on and stands, walks away from him, and he scolds himself again, for being so stupid, so imprudent, so - 

“Are you coming, Humphrey?” 

He follows her up the steps, wanting to take them two at a time but knowing with his luck he’d miss one, and into her room. The windows are open, the breeze making its way in, and when she presses him up against the door he feels the goosebumps on her arms. She kisses him insistently, standing on her tip-toes to reach her tongue in his mouth. His arms wrap around her, maneuvering them to the bed and laying her down gently, her arms coming up around his neck. He clumsily works on the hook of her top, and when he gets it off, she tugs at the back of his shirt. He sits up, breaking the kiss to pull it over his head. He takes a moment, looking down at her, her bare breasts rising and falling with heavy breaths.

“Are you sure you want this?” He says, and she answers him with her hands on his shoulders, pulling him back down.

“Touch me,” she says inside a kiss, her perfectly manicured nails making scratches along his chest. 

“Uh - you want me to -“ 

“ _Dan_ ,” she breathes out, and he thinks his brain might short circuit. 

“Okay,” he says between a kiss, “I can do that.”

He reaches down and dips behind the fabric of her swimsuit bottom.

“You’re so wet,” he says, but it sounds like someone else, hoarse and disengaged. 

“I was _swimming_ ,” she bites back, but her voice lacks an edge amidst the heavy breath. 

He kisses at her throat, over her pulse, down her collarbone, but she pulls him back up to her mouth by his hair. He works his fingers inside her, and she bucks her hips up against him.

“More,” she balls her fists in the fabric of his shorts. “I need more.”

She pushes out from under him, reaching into the drawer of her bedside table and pulling out a condom packet. He doesn’t have time to think too hard into that. This is so surreal.

Her eyes are shut tight, and he wonders if she’s imagining him as someone else. But then she’s whining out his name, over and over, _Dan, Dan, Dan_. She comes with a shudder, gasping his name so loud he has to cover her mouth with his hand so no one will hear them. He’s not far along after that. 

He drops onto the bed next to her, the sheets damp with sweat. A breeze from the window blows against his back. From somewhere outside, he hears the birds singing. He moves so he can look at her, her cheeks flushed. Her arms go up against her chest, and he shifts so that she can pull the sheet over her. 

“Look who finally got a little interesting,” she says, still a little breathless. 

“I’m sure it was just a fluke.”

She turns to him, tracing an absentminded finger along his arm. 

“I think we’ve found a use for you this summer, Humphrey.”

“Oh, we’re still doing that? We both know by now you’re well acquainted with my name.”

She smacks his arm and buries her face in the pillow. She’s embarrassed, he realizes, and brings his hand up to cup her cheek, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. She pulls away, looking at the ceiling. 

* * *

Dan is different. 

Different than Nate, not as careful, as cautious, as precious. Different than Chuck, definitely, not as rough, as taking, as domineering.

He’s different than she thought he would be, not that she ever really thought about it, other than in passing, out of morbid curiosity. She likes the way they fit together, the way he looks at her, equal parts awe and anxious. 

But all of this, it’s purely transactional, of course. She had been itching to work out all the heat, and it’s not her fault Nate and Serena insisted on keeping such inadequate company. 

Well, maybe _inadequate_ isn’t the exact word she would use. 

After spending the morning with Serena, she finds Dan waiting in her room, and hardly puts her things down before he’s pulling her into the shower. 

He presses her against the cool tile, fumbling to get the water on, and they both jump, startled, when it hits them, ice cold. She laughs, tipping her head back, and he follows, trailing his teeth down her neck, where small bruises already paint her skin, lightly covered with concealer. 

“You have a problem,” she breathes out. “People are going to start to wonder why I stopped swimming.” 

She pulls him up to meet her.

“We have to find somewhere else for your mouth to occupy.” 

He laughs, and she feels it ring through her skin. 

* * *

He has a problem. 

“You’re acting weird,” Eric says, swinging his mallet slightly, hitting the ball through the wicket.

“Hmm?” Dan mumbles, wiping the sweat from his brow. “How so?”

Eric shrugs. 

“All distracted and... dopey.” 

“What, like the dwarves?” Dan hits the ball, misses. “It’s fucking hot out here, man.” 

“Break down!” Nate calls, walking over.

“I don’t know how to play this game, Nate.” Dan says, and Nate claps a hand on his back. 

“We’ll call it a day then, yeah?” Nate takes the mallet out of Dan’s hand. “And Eric’s right man, you’re totally out of it.” 

Dan shakes his head, waves a dismissive hand. 

“I need a cold drink. Maybe a shower.” 

He feels Eric’s eyes on the back of his neck as he walks into the house, then straight through it and back out the front door. 

He’s hardly got the door locked before he pins her up against it. 

“Croquet is so fucking stupid,” he huffs, and she laughs, pressing a wet kiss to his neck. 

  
  


Over breakfast, under the table, she hooks their ankles together, draws her toes up his calf, tickles them on his thigh. Over the table, she takes an innocent bite from her slice of watermelon. 

“I knew you were magnanimous,” she says, leaning over the table to Cece, who sits at the head. “But to let the underprivileged youth into your home? You’re _such_ a humanitarian.”

Serena chastises her, and Blair gives him a small shrug. 

He watches her get up from the table, strut into the kitchen where an already made mojito is waiting for her. She looks over her shoulder, wraps her mouth around the rim of the glass. He grimaces. 

“What’s wrong, Humphrey? Is your stomach not used to anything but your lame dad’s cooking?” 

Serena scolds her again, and offers him an apologetic look. Behind her, Blair beams. He waves his hand dismissively, trying not to smile.

He must have hit his head on the bottom of the pool without realizing it, because even the bullying is starting to turn him on. 

He has a problem. 

“You were overdoing it a bit this morning, don’t you think?” He says, with her on top of him, her hips stirring on his rhythmically. 

She peers down at him from under her curtain of hair, scratches his chest a little, almost affectionately. 

“You like it,” she says. “Don’t pretend you don’t.” 

He reaches up, his hand going around the back of her slender neck. He pulls her down, and she fits comfortably with him, clumsily enveloping his mouth with hers. He moves his hand between them, and is rewarded with a sharp gasp. 

“You should try and be nicer to me,” he says into her ear. “Since I’m so nice to you.” 

She looks like she’s about to say something, but it gets lost in a kiss. 

The four of them, and Eric and Kenneth, the boy from the market, all go out for dinner in town. 

Dan props his arm on the back of the booth, and Blair settles into it just slightly, giving out a quip about him being close enough the bourgeoisie is going to start _rubbing off_ on her. He retracts his arm, thinking no contact is the safest bet, but she looks up at him from under those doe-like lashes, and he sneaks a hand on her thigh. She lets it sit there for just a moment, their breathing synchronized, then pushes it off. He can’t take his eyes off her, but it’s not like he’s trying hard not to. 

Eric sips loudly on his virgin Bloody Mary, then breaks away and coughs violently. Kenneth pats his back, and he waves a hand dismissively, laughing uneasily and asking for a refill. 

“I’m sorry,” Dan heaves out later that night in his room. “I know I wasn’t careful - but I - I always want you - I can’t -“ 

“Then _why_ are you still _talking?_ ” Blair whines, tugging at his belt. 

He wants to laugh, wants to tease her for being so needy. But he can only bring himself to kiss her, again and again. 

  
  


“Holy _shit_ ,” Eric says, cornering him alone in the kitchen the next morning. “You _like_ Blair.” 

“Uh - what?” Okay, now he _definitely_ has a problem. “What makes you say that?”

“I have _eyes_. And so do Nate and Serena, but luckily for you they can’t take them off each other.” 

Eric shakes his head, rubbing his face. 

“She’s going to end you when she finds out. And she will find out. Nothing gets past her.” 

“Why would Serena care, I mean, if I did?” 

Eric looks at him straight. 

“Not her, you moron, Blair.”

“Thank you for the vote of confidence, man.” Dan mumbles. “It’s not like it’s one-sided.” 

Eric’s mouth falls agape.

“Are you... _sleeping_ with her?” 

“I -“ Big problem. “I did not say that.” 

“You don’t have to, it’s written all over your face.” Eric starts to pace a little, back and forth. “This is too fucking weird.” 

Dan puts a hand on Eric’s wrist, tries to fix his voice so it doesn’t sound so desperate.

“It’s just - It’s nothing. It’s an arrangement for the summer. We’re bored. _Please_ don’t tell anyone.”

Eric’s eyebrows raise, his face going through all the stages of grief while he tries to process this. 

“Eric, she will kill you if you tell anyone.” 

“I don’t doubt that,” Eric mutters. 

* * *

“Eric knows,” he says in a rush, his hands going up her skirt. She almost doesn’t hear him. She takes a hold of his wrists. 

“What?” 

They’re outside, tucked behind the hedges at the back of the Rhodes house. She had gotten annoyed that there were leaves in her hair, but he only laughed it off, holding her away from the shrubs. 

“Dan,” 

He keeps his eyes low.

“ _Daniel_.” 

“Don’t call me that. Cece calls me that. I didn’t tell him. He just figured it out.” 

She scoffs, pushes him off her slightly and he retracts immediately.

“He _figured it out_ because you’re always _throwing_ yourself at me.”

Dan rubs his face awkwardly. 

“He won’t tell anyone.” 

She looks at him. There’s something tight rising in her chest. 

“You don’t think he’ll tell his _sister?_ They tell each other everything.” 

She bends down to fix the buckle on her shoe, then turns to walk away.

“Why does it matter? I’m not Serena’s boyfriend.” 

The resentment in his voice startles her to a stop. 

“Why does it matter if people know you like me?” 

He was just like Serena. It was all so easy for him. 

“I don’t like you,” she turns back to look at him. He looks crumpled, serious. “I like having _sex_ with you.” 

Dan lets out a long breath. 

“Right,” he says, his voice sounds tight in his throat, but she pretends not to hear it. 

  
  


She digs _Roman Holiday_ out from the bottom of her bag. She always brings Audrey with her, because moments like this seem to follow her wherever she goes. 

She lets herself, for a brief moment, think about the olive groves, the lights on the Arno, the rolling Tuscan hills. But then it’s gone. Just like him.

When Serena knocks on her door, tries to goad her out of bed and away from the laptop she borrowed from Eric, she lies that she’s got her period. Serena squeezes her hand, leans in and presses a kiss to her forehead. _Let me know if you need anything_ , she says. 

_I need you to understand,_ Blair thinks. _That my world is falling apart. I feel like screaming because I have no one to talk to. I need you to understand without me having to tell you._

She had gotten used to leaving things unsaid. 

She falls asleep with the laptop still open, the movie long finished, replaced by an old episode of _America’s Next Top Model._

When she wakes up, her windows have been opened, and a glass of pineapple juice sits on the bedside table, next to a small box of cherry cordials and a heat pack.

An hour later, she sends Dan a text.

**C and S went shopping. House empty.**

There’s a stretch of time, minutes sat on her bed tapping her foot, where she doesn’t think he’ll show up. 

But then he’s there, at the bottom of the stairs. 

“You came,” she says, sounding more relieved than she would have liked. 

Dan shrugs. 

“I like the pool here more.” 

He moves forward to meet her when she gets to the last step. 

“Oh,” Blair says, “Is that all?” 

Dan takes another step forward, backing her into the balustrade. 

“Nate won’t sleep with me.”

She laughs, not able to help herself. She brings her hand up, producing one of the cherry cordials in front of his lips. He opens his mouth and she places it on his tongue. It’s the longest they’ve ever looked at each other, she thinks, without either trying to rip each other’s heads off or get each other off. 

He’s not horrible to look at.

He kisses her, sweet and full, but the pillar presses uncomfortably into her back and she pushes up against his chest, his arms coming around her, hands going underneath her robe. 

“Broad daylight,” he mumbles. “Front of the house. Someone could catch us.” 

“ _Shush_ ,” she kisses into him. “Don’t kill the moment.” 

She goes back upstairs to change into a swimsuit, and comes back down to find him in the pool, the sun beating down on him. 

She takes a seat on the edge of the pool, dips her toes in. He swims up to her, and she kicks a little water at him, then a little more, something about the smirk on his face making her feel a little dizzy. Suddenly, he’s got his hands around her ankles, then running up her thighs, until they come around her waist and he’s pulling her in. She screams, swatting his shoulders, and his laugh rings loud in her ears. He spins her around in the water, and her kicking and screaming is futile under his strength. 

When she gathers herself, she uses all her might to push him up against the side of the pool, and he goes willingly. She doesn’t kiss him, just presses herself against him, and sends a hand down between them, snaking into his swim shorts. He closes his eyes, his mouth falling open, his cheeks flushed pink. 

Definitely not horrible. 

Her mouth dips onto his neck and she works her hands on him. He grabs onto her sides, steadying himself, the pressure of the water making it difficult for them to stay in place. His skin tastes like salt, and the smell of chlorine overpowers any residue of cologne or sweat. His hands move up from her sides, roaming over her breasts, and he tries to stick his fingers up the bottom of her bikini top, but it tickles and she nudges him away, giggling against his shoulder. She works her hands faster, hooking her ankle around his, and she feels his breath hitch in his throat, and then - 

“ _B?_ Are you back there?” 

She pushes off him at lightning speed, gripping onto the handles of the pool’s ladder to steady herself. She kicks him, and he does his best to swim away before Serena is marching through the sliding doors, her face bent with worry.

“Oh,” she says when she comes up to the pool, and sees them. “What’re you two doing?” 

“Swimming.” Blair says, trying to control her breathing. She’s too afraid to look at Dan behind her. 

Serena raises her eyebrows, but her eyes are still disillusioned. 

“B, your mom’s on the landline.” 

  
  


* * *

He doesn’t get out of the pool, opting to stay in the water to hide from Serena what they’ve done. He’s too spooked to finish himself off, especially here, and instead idly swims around until he thinks he’s good to go. 

When he enters back into the house, he’s met with Cece and Serena sitting at the kitchen island. 

“Is she okay?” He says, doing his best to act normal. 

Serena’s forehead creases. Her bottom lip sticks out in a pout. 

“It didn’t sound serious, but she went upstairs and hasn’t come back down.” 

Dan nods, overly conscious of the way his wet clothes stick to him. 

“I hope she’s okay,” he says distractedly, then, “I should go.” 

He turns to head into the foyer without waiting for a response. 

“Dan,” Serena calls after him. He stops, turns back to her. She has a sort of wistful smile, the kind she gets when she looks through old photos, relives happy memories. “I’m glad you two can be friends.” 

Dan nods again, biting his tongue. When he gets into the foyer, he stops at the base of the stairs. He turns to look behind him, making sure he isn’t visible from the kitchen, then makes his way upstairs. 

Her room is empty, but the bathroom door is shut and he can hear shuffling from inside. 

He tries the handle, and the door creaks open.

She’s sitting on the tiled floor, slumped against the tub, one hand on the toilet seat holding her up. She looks up startled. 

“Sorry,” he takes a step back, moving to close the door.

“Don’t go,” she says wearily.

He steps inside cautiously, closing the door behind him, then slides his back down the wall, taking a seat on the floor opposite her.

“She’s not coming home at the end of summer,” Blair says, her fingers quietly drumming on the toilet seat, like she’s trying to distract herself. “She’s staying in Paris for work. She thought I was - she didn’t even realize I came here. She called Lily because I wouldn’t pick up my cellphone.”

Dan doesn’t know what to say, so he doesn’t say anything. A moment passes, then Blair says, 

“Did Serena ever tell you things about me?” 

“What kinds of things?” 

“Like, problems I have.” 

“Did she need to? I could see them myself,” Dan says lightheartedly, but Blair looks up, serious, and it sobers Dan immediately.

“No, she never told me things about you.”

 _I never asked_ , he thinks. 

Blair wrings her hands, picks at her perfect cuticles. 

“I had an... eating problem. A digestive problem, really. I mean, I didn’t... let myself digest after I ate.” 

Dan blinks blankly, then understanding sets in. 

“Oh,” he says. The room suddenly feels very stuffy. 

“I haven’t done it - I don’t do it anymore. But I’ve wanted to. It was the last time people really... Everything just feels so out of my control. I want to do something to myself, instead of having all these things happen to me.”

He sees tears in her eyes. It feels wrong to watch her cry, so he watches the bathroom tiles instead. 

“I’ve really hit rock bottom. I’m sitting here telling this to Dan Humphrey.” 

From the corner of his eye, he sees her bring a hand to her cheek. 

“I didn’t mean that,” she says, and he knew she hadn’t, but he didn’t expect her to admit it. 

He stands slowly, then holds out his hand to help her up. 

“I can’t go down there until they leave,” he says quietly.

“I’ll come back up and get you.” She pulls away, moving past him to the door. He doesn’t let himself hesitate, catching her hand again and turning her around. He cups her cheek in his hand and kisses her, not the urgent, hungry kind of kiss they usually share. Something softer, more sentimental. Something too real to be good for either of them. 

When she pulls away, she turns her face away from him. She leaves, shutting the door behind her. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Cruel Summer by Taylor Swift


	3. breakable heaven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the sun starts to rise over East Hampton, Dan wonders when his life started to feel like some strange dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I, not surprisingly, finished this faster than I expected to, because we all have a lot of time on our hands now, right? But truthfully, I have no idea when the next chapter will be out.
> 
> Thank you for all the kind messages, I’m glad I can help bring comfort during these trying times. Stay home and stay safe! xx

“Hold _still_ ,” Blair huffs as she buttons his shirt, fusses with his collar. Cece had sprung the White Party on them a few days earlier, once all the preparations had already been made, the courtyard transforming into the familiar Manhattan party setup. Everyone but him had apparently expected this, their monochromatic ensembles laid out in ready. Blair had gone into town alone, picked him out a white button up and pants, then dug through the many closets at Cece’s until she found him a blazer that would fit. 

“This is ridiculous,” he grumbles, ignoring her protests and tugging at his collar. “It’s too hot to be getting all dressed up for nothing. You people are ridiculous.” 

There’s a flicker in Blair’s eyes, contemplation on her face. She smoothes down his shirt. 

“You are ‘ _us people’_ now.” 

The sentiment overcomes him, and he wants to lean in and kiss her, but decides against it. He bites his lip, then turns abruptly to look at himself in the mirror. She picks at his hair and he dodges her touch. 

“How do I look?” 

She narrows her eyes at him. 

“Fishing for compliments is tacky.”

He smiles, moving to the back of the room where the bag his clothes had been in was. He digs through it then pulls out a clunky polaroid camera, running his fingers over its hard exterior.

“My dad's old camera,” he offers when he looks up at her raised brows. “He told me to bring it to capture my memories but... I haven’t been making many memories that would be appropriate to capture.” 

She rolls her eyes, but there’s a bit of a smile curled on her lips. 

“You are _so_ lame,” she laughs. 

He holds the camera up, pointing it at her shaking head. She’s wearing a white headband, reminiscent of a time and place much colder in weather and attitude. Her hair is curled perfectly, her dress hugging tight to her body. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he hears himself say, although he hadn’t meant to say it out loud.

He braces himself for a sardonic quip, but instead he looks up to see a small smile. Timid, almost. 

He drops the camera onto the bed and goes back over to her, his arms going around her waist, his mouth roaming over her neck. He gets a whiff of the regular Blair smell, woody and warm, usually doused behind the collar of her uniform. He would’ve never known that before. It still feels strange to know that now.

“Don’t,” she breathes out, and he pulls away. “We don’t have time.”

There’s something mischievous mulling behind her eyes. She takes his hand and runs it down her skirt, then under it. His fingers are met with the bare heat of her. She’s not wearing anything underneath. 

His breath hitches, and he clears his throat awkwardly as she pulls his hand back out. 

“You have to wait.” 

He nods stiffly, ducking in to kiss her, but she holds a hand up. 

“You’ll mess up my lipstick,” she says sternly, and then she’s off, out the door and heading for the stairs. 

He follows suit, hands stuffed in his pockets, but stops behind her at the top of the stairs.

In the foyer, Eric breaks away from a hug with Jenny. 

“Hey!” Dan sputters, while Blair prances down the stairs unaffected, brushing past his sister like she wasn’t even there. 

“You look nice,” he says, avoiding Jenny’s prickly stare. “I like your dress.” 

“Thanks,” Jenny says, studying him. “I made it myself.” 

He rubs at his neck, tries to pull his face into an impressed expression. He puts his hand on her arm to lead her outside, ignoring Eric’s cautious glower. 

The sun shines down on the white tents, the many attendees looking like sophisticated snowmen placed in the vibrant grass. He feels Jenny’s eyes on him. 

“What are you doing?” She says, her voice tense. 

“What do you mean?”

She looks at him impatiently. 

“With Blair?” 

He looks up startlingly at Eric, who pulls a face and shakes his head. 

“What? Nothing,” he says, keeping his voice level. 

“Are you suddenly friends now?” 

Dan hopes the relief on his face isn’t too evident. He stutters, not able to think of what to say. 

“She’s an evil bitch, Dan.” 

He looks at her, into her big eyes that look just like his. _She’s not that bad,_ he thinks.

“I know,” he says instead. 

Before the line of questioning can continue, Eric takes Jenny’s hand and pulls her away to the bar with the promise of fresh pressed juice, throwing an apologetic look back over his shoulder. 

* * *

She stands in the shade, the ice in her drink melting quickly. From across the courtyard, she watches Serena glow in the sun, her hair in a perfectly messy up-do, her long white dress flowing in the warm wind. She has a hand pressed to Nate’s chest, and they kiss for everyone to see. And people do see, all eyes trained on their every move. All she needs is a regal wave over her subjects and a shower of flower petals to make this scene any more nauseating. 

_She’s happy,_ Blair thinks. _Why does that bother you so much?_

She waits for Jenny to clear away before she makes her way to Dan. 

“What happened?” She asks, surveying the stress on his face. He shakes his head. 

“She was asking about us.”

“What did you say?”

Dan searches her face for something she’s unsure of. 

“I told her we weren’t friends. Just tolerating each other for the summer.”

Blair keeps her face levelled. She nods slightly.

“That’s the truth, isn’t it?” Dan says.

Blair swallows the strange lump forming in her throat. 

“Of course.”

There’s a beat, then Dan’s eyes widen. Before she can ask what’s wrong, he’s sticking his chin out, gesturing to something behind her. 

She turns around. Something indeed. 

“What are _you_ doing here?” She takes an instinctive step away from Dan, then another, until she finds herself walking away. 

“I could ask _him_ the same question,” Chuck says coolly, his hands in his pockets, the picture of disaffection.

“I’m surprised you took time out of your busy schedule to grace us with your presence,” she says, pointedly changing the subject. 

“I had to come visit my dear grandmother, now, didn’t I?” She’s overly aware of the way he’s inching towards her. 

“Well, go on, she’s inside entertaining guests.” 

Chuck sucks his teeth, the corners of his mouth twisting up in that smug cheshire cat grin. 

“Come on, Blair. You know why I’m here.” 

“Oh, don’t _start_ ,” she says sharply, then lowering her voice, “You’re a little late for that.” 

“Don’t act like you’re not happy to see me,” 

“I’m not _acting_ ,” Blair bites. “What did you think, I was just going to wait around for you all summer?” 

Chuck looks around irritably, like he’s not really listening to what she’s saying. 

“Throw over whoever you’re playing with,” he says. “And -“ 

“And _nothing_ , Chuck. Why don’t you run along and bother your other friends? Oh _wait_ , you don’t _have_ any.” 

Chuck grabs hold of her wrist roughly. 

“The mean girl act doesn’t work on me, Blair.” 

From over Chuck’s shoulder, she sees Dan treading towards them, brows knitted together. She shoots him a warning look, one that doesn’t pass Chuck by. She yanks herself from his grasp. 

“So what? You’re friends with Humphrey now?” 

There’s heat rising up Blair’s chest, flushing her face. She doesn’t back down, keeping Chuck’s hard glare.

“Are you surprised? Nate’s only friends with you out of habit. There’s a reason why he invited Dan instead of you this summer. Because Dan Humphrey is one thing you’ll never be. A human being.” 

She pushes past Chuck, walking away from the party and not stopping until she feels a hand on her arm. She turns, a jab at the ready.

But it’s only Serena. 

“Are you okay, B?” 

Blair lets out a shaky breath. 

“I’m fine.”

But Serena’s never been one to believe her lies. 

She pulls her into a hug, her warmth radiating through Blair. She won’t cry. She refuses to cry.

When she pulls away, opening her eyes, she finds Nate at her side, bringing a comforting hand to her elbow. Just past them, a few paces back, stands Dan, destitute.

She gives them a tight smile. 

“You _guys_ , this is a party. What’re we doing standing in the corner?” 

She leans against the bar, taking down the last sip of her drink. Behind her, Nate and Serena lounge at a table, Serena’s shoes kicked off, her feet in Nate’s lap. 

Blair taps her nails against her glass, then feels someone next to her. 

“Could I buy you a drink?”

“The drinks are free,” she says plainly. 

“I know,” Dan smiles. “I was kidding.” 

He gestures to the bartender for two more. 

With the glass pressed to his mouth, he leans in slightly.

“You sure you’re okay?” 

Blair nods, bringing herself to look at him. He regards her thoughtfully, his lips just a little wet. She wonders what would happen if she were to kiss him now, in front of everyone, the way Serena kissed Nate. 

Dan licks his lips.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

Blair’s eyes shoot up. 

“What are you thinking?”

“How I can’t wait for this stupid party to be over.” 

Blair smiles, tipping her glass to clink on his.

  
  


The four of them sit easily together, the way they would on nights they went out, as people slowly trickle out of the party. The sun casts shadows around them, the low golden light glinting against the windows of the house behind them. After a while of passive conversation, Eric, Jenny, and Kenneth join them. She feels Jenny’s eyes on her, like a bad sunburn, peeling away at her skin. 

It’s odd, all of them sitting there together, in some kind of quiet consensus. She wonders if anyone else is thinking it, how in a month's time they’ll be back to backstabbing and hunting each other for sport. 

But when she looks around, at their faces illuminated by candlelight, she doesn’t think they are. 

Jenny retires first, mumbling something about an early bus ride as she gives Dan an affectionate squeeze on the shoulder. Eric and Kenneth take off not long after, hands intertwined. By the time the sun has set, Nate carries a sleepy Serena bridal-style back into the house. 

They wait for the coast to clear, then sneak in, one after the other, bumbling tipsily up the steps. 

Dan shuts the door behind him loudly. 

“ _Shh_ ,” Blair stage-whispers. “They’ll hear us!” 

They laugh, coming into a kiss. Blair works clumsily at the buttons on his shirt, resolving to leave it only half undone. She drapes her arms around his neck, kicking off her heels and settling onto her bare feet. Dan looks at her under heavy lids, smiling. 

“You’re tiny,” he says, his hands pushing up her skirt. He grips onto the back of her thighs, hoisting her up against the wall. Her back hits the wall with a thud, and he looks concerned for a moment, but she only laughs, pulling him closer. She gasps at the pressure of him between her legs, reaching down to undo his belt. 

“You called me Dan,” he says, working himself inside her. “In front of him, you called me Dan.” 

“Heat of the moment,” Blair breathes out, gripping hard onto his shoulders. 

“He’s insane,” Dan says. “Having you and letting you go.” 

She shuts him up with a kiss, her nails biting at the skin of his neck. _You’ll let me go, too,_ she thinks. _You’ll have to._

* * *

His eyes flutter open at the sound of the first birdsong. He hadn’t fallen fully asleep, feeling too sticky and hot to get comfortable. The sun hasn’t risen yet, and Blair is lying on his chest, the both of them wrapped in sheets, having wanted to get out of their restricting formal wear. He runs his fingers lightly through her hair, resting his hand on her back. She stirs, and after a moment lifts her head. 

“What time is it?”

Dan shrugs. He shifts to let her move off him, but she doesn’t, settling back onto his chest instead. 

“You should go,” she says. “Before they wake up.” 

“I know,” Dan says. But neither of them move. 

He brings a hand to her chin, lifting it up so he can kiss her, his tongue dipping into her mouth. 

“I’m too tired,” she says, pulling away. “You really should go.”

“I know,” Dan says again. “I just wanted to kiss you.”

He peels himself out of bed, grappling around the floor for his clothes. In the darkness, he takes in Blair on her stomach, the porcelain skin of her back rising and falling. As he makes his way to the door, he kicks something on the floor. He bends down, and finds the old camera lying on the rug at the foot of Blair’s bed, the photo he took still stuck in it. 

It’s early enough that the staff haven’t come in yet, and he’s able to slip out of the house unseen. He takes the back route, walking uneasily on the pebblestone road. As the sun starts to rise over East Hampton, Dan wonders when his life started to feel like some strange dream. He supposes it was when Serena came back, and pulled him from his infinitesimal life and deep into the spiral of her world. But when he gets back to his room, stripping off his rumpled clothing, and the white rimmed photo falls onto his bed, he knows it wasn’t that long ago. 

  
  


He wakes up to the sound of an insistent knock on his door. He fell asleep in only his boxers on top of the covers, and lazily pulls on a t-shirt, muttering obscenities towards Nate under his breath. 

But when he opens the door, he’s met with Blair’s big brown eyes. 

“Uh?” He takes a quick look around. “Hi?”

She pushes past him, going to take a seat on his bed, kicking off her shoes and making herself comfortable. She eyes him up and down, a bemused smirk on her lips. He hopes his eyes aren’t too comically wide. 

“What are you - what’s happening here?” He says, shutting his door. 

“Nate and Serena left for Providence, dinner at one of the Vanderbilt mansions.”

Dan rubs at his eyes. 

“How long have I been asleep?” 

“It was unplanned. Nate’s grandfather called him over this morning and they just left. I told them I’d let you know.” 

He takes a seat next to her, watching the way her eyes roam over him.

“So it’s just us,” he says, a hand snaking up her leg, underneath the skirt of her dress, and resting on her inner thigh.

“And Eric,” she says, her legs spreading open just a bit. 

“Who’s busy with Kenneth,” he strokes his hand against her, over the lace of her underwear. 

“And Cece,” she says, her breath on the verge of hitching in her throat.

“Who couldn’t care less about us,” he draws his hand behind the fabric, finding her already slick. 

“There’s Anne,” she lays her back down on the bed, moving her hips up against his touch. “Right downstairs.”

“She’ll wonder what we’re doing,” he brings his other hand to cup her breast, feeling that she’s not wearing a bra, and tracing small circles over her nipple through the fabric. “We’ll have to stay quiet.” 

“That’ll be even more suspicious,” she shuts her eyes, biting down hard on her lip. She grabs hold of his arm tight, and then she’s shivering against him, breathing heavy. 

When he pulls away, she opens her eyes, her smile wide, bearing teeth. There’s a pit in his stomach, as he watches her. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen her so happy. It almost looks out of place on her. And it’s strange, being the reason for it.

“What is it?” She says, rubbing the spot on his arm she had squeezed. He shakes his head. 

“Nothing,” he says. “You’ll make fun of me if I start sweet talking you.” 

She laughs lightly as she sits up, smoothing her skirt. 

“I need to shower,” she says, standing up. “I haven’t... since last night,” 

She takes his hand, pulling him up to his feet. She stands on her tip-toes to reach his ear. 

“I like smelling you on me when I wake up.” 

And then she’s leading him to the bathroom. _God_ , this girl will be the end of him. 

She stops at the entrance to the bathroom, leaning back against the door frame. 

“You haven’t kissed me yet,” she says. 

“You want me to kiss you?” he teases. She sticks her bottom lip out slightly. 

“Don’t you _want_ to kiss me?”

 _That’s the problem,_ he thinks. _That’s all I ever want to do._

* * *

By the time they’re out of the shower and dried off, and Blair goes downstairs to check, Anne has already left. Blair makes her way back into Dan’s room, where he’s digging through the dresser for a clean shirt. 

“We should go to the beach,” he says. “Since it’s just the two of us.” 

Blair makes a face, but he doesn’t see it, pulling the shirt over his head. 

“Sex on the beach is so crass,” she says. “All that sand in places you definitely don’t want sand to be.” 

“We don’t have to have _sex_ ,” Dan says. “We can go for a walk.” 

She takes a seat on the edge of his bed, worrying her lip between her teeth, then lets out a long breath. 

“Did you see Gossip Girl?” 

Dan’s brows knit together, shaking his head and reaching for his phone. 

“Don’t bother. It’s all about my standoff with Chuck and Nate and Serena’s pseudo-bridal shower.” 

Dan looks at her curiously, leaning back against the dresser and crossing his arms. 

“So, nothing about us?”

“Of course not, because we’re _careful_. But parading around the island is the exact opposite of careful.” 

Dan shakes his head slightly, looking at the floor. He laughs, bitterly, she realizes. She reaches out a hand, almost involuntarily. 

“Let’s go downstairs.” 

  
  


“Providence, was it?” Dan says as they make their way down the stairs. Blair nods, lets out a small, almost sour laugh. 

“I’d love to be a fly on the wall at that family dinner. They’re going to hate Serena.”

When Dan doesn’t say anything, Blair hums lowly, running her hand down the banister.

“I’ve always loved this house,” she says. “They got married here, you know. Anne and the Captain. I used to keep a photo of them in my diary.“

In the uneasy silence that follows, she feels Dan’s eyes on her. 

“I’m sorry, I know this must be hard for all of you.”

Blair shrugs, leaning against the balustrade as he steps in front of her.

“I would be more worried if I still planned on becoming an Archibald.” 

Something in the way Dan’s looking at her is so disarming. He sees right through her, she thinks. It terrifies her, all the things he could do with that. 

She takes a seat on the steps, and so does he, lowering himself down onto the one below her. She hesitates a moment, then curls a hand around his arm, bringing him up to sit next to her. 

“Seeing her in that white dress yesterday... I was so angry when she first told me. I couldn’t get over that she stole my boyfriend. But that’s not what happened. Serena didn’t steal him. She always had him.”

It feels odd to say any of that out loud. And she regrets it immediately, realizing who she’s saying it to. His jaw clenches slightly.

“I don’t think I ever really had her,” he says. “I think I was just a stop on the way back to her real life, the life she was supposed to be living.” 

“That’s not true,” Blair says quietly, after a moment. “She loved you. If anyone knew that, it was me.” 

Dan nods, not meeting her eye. Then he clears his throat, standing again. 

“Come on, I’ll make you something to eat.”

  
  


He makes her, surprisingly delicious, French toast, plopping raspberries in her mouth as he works. There’s a fleeting moment, as he serves her the plate he’s made, where he dots her nose playfully with powdered sugar, and she giggles, wiping it off. She looks at him, really looks at him. She has him in the palm of her hand. It terrifies her, all the things she could do with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Cruel Summer by Taylor Swift  
> 


	4. killing me slow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blair remembers the last time she almost touched perfection.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, but I like it the way it is! Next one will be out soon.
> 
> Trigger warning for very small mention of self harm.

They’ve abandoned some semblance of caution. 

With Nate and Serena deciding to spend a few extra days in Providence, they’ve been swimming and sunbathing and sleeping, curled together after long spells of sex. Things are - well, they’re almost perfect. 

Blair remembers the last time she almost touched perfection. The way it cracked under the weight of her, shattered before her eyes. 

They’d swam around innocently in the Archibald pool, stealing kisses in the water, until Anne finally left and they were able to get out, get to what they’d come here to do. 

He trails small bites and kisses down her neck and chest, where pink, purple, and a scatter of yellowing bruises litter her tanned skin. She’s had to wear a silk necktie whenever around Cece, who eyes her narrowly but ultimately doesn’t pry. 

She coils her fingers in the growing curls of his hair, as he brings his mouth down on her stomach, then pulls down her swimsuit bottom, spreads her thighs apart. 

The sun beats down hard on them. It’s exhilarating, his tongue inside her out in the open, where anyone could see. 

Well, maybe they’ve abandoned _a lot_ of semblance of caution. 

She feels him wince against her, as she twists hard at his hair, pressing him earnestly into her. When she finishes, she pulls him back up to meet her, tasting herself on his lips. She scratches at his scalp, almost petting. 

“You need a haircut,” she pouts. “Did I hurt you?” 

“A little,” he says, his mouth back on her neck. 

“I’m sorry,”

He hovers over her face, smirking. 

“No you’re not,”

He dips down, kisses her warmly. Their skin sticks together in the heat. 

“But you could make it up to me,” he mumbles. “If you really were.”

She hums against him, then pushes him slightly, swinging her legs over the side of the lounge chair and getting him to sit up. 

She folds down onto the ground, then shifts uncomfortably, pulling a towel under her knees so the pavement doesn’t dig into her skin. 

She peers up at him as she pulls his swim trunks down, batting her lashes angelically. He bites his lip, not breaking her gaze. 

It wasn’t something she ever did often, never liking it, really, although she’s never told Dan that. She knows if she did, he wouldn’t want her to. 

But she likes watching him, the way his jaw clenches and he swears under his breath. She likes that he doesn’t pull her hair, the way Chuck did, instead cupping a hand on her cheek as she takes him into her mouth. 

It’s more intimate, in a way, than the sex they usually have. Quieter, less rushed. She likes it. She’s not exactly sure what that means. 

It doesn’t take him long, much faster than it took her. He taps her shoulder insistently, and she pulls off him, working him with her hands until he comes. She smiles, satisfied with herself, and he gives her a pointed look before pulling her in by the back of the neck and kissing her. 

They clean themselves off with pool towels, discarding them in a pile by the sliding doors, then move onto the wicker sectional so they can lie together. Dan lays his head on her stomach, pressing his cheek to her pillowy skin. It’s not lost on her, the way he pays extra attention to kissing her stomach, her thighs, her hips. She knows what he’s doing, and it bothers her, just a little, but she doesn’t have the heart to tell him to stop. 

Imagine that, Blair Waldorf not having the heart to tell someone off. 

She rests her hand on his sun-warmed chest, rising and falling with rhythmic breaths, as she flips through the September issue of Vogue. Mustard coloured long sleeves and Margiela thigh high boots. A glimpse into all the things she’ll get back to, plaid skirts and high collars and headbands. A reminder of all the things she’ll have to leave behind. 

From between the couch cushions, Dan’s phone starts to ring. He fishes it out, pressing it to his ear. She doesn’t pay much attention, after she hears him say Hey, Dad, instead fixing on which handbag Andre Leon Talley is calling hottest for the season. She scratches idly at Dan’s chest, his conversation muffled background noise, until he sits up, his brows furrowed. She puts the magazine down, pushing her sunglasses to her forehead when he stands, starting to pace a little. He nods at nothing resignedly, then clicks the phone off. 

“What’s wrong?”

He sits back down, rubbing his eyes groggily. 

“He’s - my dad’s extending the tour through fall. Said he doesn’t know when he’ll be home.” 

She reaches out, awkwardly placing a hand on his arm. 

“Looks like we’re in the same boat,” she says quietly, after a moment. He offers her a weak smile. 

She pulls him back to her, guiding his head down to rest where it had been. She draws a finger along his jawline, rubs his cheek with her thumb. Then, realizing what she’s doing, she pulls her hand away, reaching for the magazine. 

Kenneth invites them over for dinner with his family. She digs through her drawers, looking for something she hasn’t worn yet, and finds a red sundress with small white flowers and an open back. When she descends down the stairs, Eric and Dan waiting in the foyer ready to go, her stomach flips a little at the way Dan looks up at her, wide eyed and mouth slightly agape. 

Kenneth’s is a short walk from the Rhodes, the late summer wind making Blair’s hair lift from her shoulders. The house is smaller than most around East Hampton, the porch cramped with all three of them on it. Kenneth answers the door, swooping in with a smile to kiss a timid Eric. Dan touches her bare back, pressing a hand to lead her in. He keeps it there for a moment, and she wonders if he can feel the goosebumps raised on her skin. 

The house smells like strawberry jam and cedar wood. A blue tablecloth covers the large dining table, topped with an array of roasted vegetables and a pitcher of lemonade. It feels the way she assumes a home is supposed to feel. 

Kenneth’s mother is more homely than any mother Blair thinks she’s ever met. His father owns a produce distribution company in Maine, and they come to East Hampton every summer to sell fresh fruit at the market. He’s a stately man in demeanour, but dresses himself in flannel and chinos like - well, like Dan. 

When Eric had first told them, at a dinner weeks back, Blair had rolled her eyes. _Don’t fall for a townie_ , she’d said sprightly, _It’s unbecoming._

 _You think that ‘cause you’re shallower than a creek_ , Eric quipped back, making the whole table laugh. But it stung Blair, just a bit. 

The food is delicious, Blair finding it hard to believe that anything that good could come from a home cook, and not a Michelin star chef. Dan sits next to her, their pinkies scarcely touching on the table. At one point, Blair leans in to say something, and he brings a hand up to her face, wiping sauce from the corner of her mouth, then licking it off his finger. She looks tentatively around the table, to see if anyone was watching them. But no one was. 

For dessert, Kenneth’s mother brings out a key lime pie, and freshly brewed coffee. She remarks on how she wishes Nate and Serena could have joined them, gushing about _Eric’s sweetheart of a sister._ Blair catches the way Dan eyes her, cautiously, like he thinks she’ll make a sardonic crack at Serena’s expense. But she smiles, almost in spite of him, saying how she wishes they were there too. Dan relaxes in his seat, bringing an arm to rest casually on the back of her chair. 

Kenneth’s mom stops in the middle of her raving about _Young love, oh, do you remember when we were like that, honey?_ and turns to them. 

“And you two, are you...?”

There’s a stiff moment of quiet, where Blair feels Eric watching them, almost like he, too, wants to know the answer. It’s broken by Dan, stretching awkwardly, removing his arm from where it rested.

“No,” he says. “No, we’re just friends.” 

“Oh, pardon me, I just thought because you seem like quite the couple, but -“ 

“Mom,” Kenneth interrupts, giving them an apologetic look. “Let’s all have some more pie, yeah?” 

She avoids Dan’s eyes, which are trained on her. Under the table, he rests a hand on her leg, and she doesn’t move it off. She doesn’t want to.

The next morning, Blair comes out of her room to find Eric sitting at the bottom of the stairs. She places a hand on his shoulder, and when he looks up, she sees that his eyes are a little red. She takes a careful seat next to him, but doesn’t inquire, just keeps her hand on his back. 

“I said goodbye to Ken this morning. They’re probably on the ferry by now.”

She shifts, guiding his head down to rest on her shoulder. It’s what Serena would do, if she were there. 

“He said he’d come to New York to visit but...” 

He sighs, and she understands. 

“There’s always next summer,” she says, but it feels like she’s trying to convince herself, more than him. 

He stares down at the ragged lines on his wrists, then turns them over in his lap, burying them away. 

“I let him know everything, and it didn’t bother him. Any of it. I mean, he liked me for me. How am I going to find that again?” 

_You will_ , Serena would say. _You’ll be okay, You’re young, I love you_ , Serena would say. 

_I don’t know,_ Blair thinks. 

She stands up slowly, holding out her hand. 

“Come on, let’s go eat a tub of ice cream. I’ll be your big sister fill-in for today.” 

After a few hours of bad movies and enough sugar to last Blair a lifetime, she grabs Eric’s laptop and makes her way across the hedges to the Archibald house. She finds Dan alone, sitting in the den, reading. His legs crossed, brows knit in concentration. She thinks back to leaning over the balcony, seeing him by the pool. Who would’ve thought that they’d be here now. 

She puts the laptop, and the DVD cases she brought, on the coffee table, then leans over in front of him, her hand curling around the top of his book. 

“Remember your page?” 

He nods, a smile growing on his face. She yanks the book from his hands, tossing it aside on the couch, then sets herself in his lap. She brings her feet up on the couch, and he snakes an arm around her waist, the other resting on her leg. She kisses him, and a small moan escapes from the back of his throat. 

“Missed me?” She says sweetly, kissing down his jaw.

“You know I did.”

She rests her head in the crook of his neck smelling the amber musk of his aftershave. 

“Serena said they’re coming back tomorrow,” she says, and she feels him nod. 

“Nate texted me,” he says. She places a hand on his chest, feeling the soft cotton of his shirt. 

“Kenneth left this morning,” she feels him hum. “Eric was pretty torn up about it.”

Their breathing is synchronized. She feels him tense against her. 

“The Hamptons... where nothing lasts forever,” he laughs a little, but he doesn’t hide it. The sadness in his voice. 

It feels so juvenile, so sacred, curled up against him like that. She shifts, so she can face him.

“Can I tell you a secret?” She says quietly. He nods, rubbing a small circle on her knee with his thumb. 

“I like it here. I don’t want to go home.” And because it’s true, it makes all of this feel all the more wrong. “Back there, everyone’s always watching.”

“You’ll be fine,” he says, but he doesn’t sound like he means it. “You can torment anyone that lays eyes on you. You’re the Medusa of Manhattan.” 

She raises her brows skeptically. 

_If only that were true,_ she thinks. _Nothing would ever change. I would be able to turn everything into stone._

He moves out from underneath her, taking the laptop and DVDs in his hands. 

“Come on, we’ll watch in bed.” 

* * *

Once in bed, the movies, of course, are unceremoniously abandoned. She straddles his hips, kissing him hard, a whirlwind of clothes and hair and hot breath. He moves her hair out of her face, holds it just behind her neck, so he can kiss her without it getting in the way. Her tongue maps the inside of his mouth, determined, and she bites his bottom lip a little too hard, in a rush. But once he’s inside her, she slows down, not breaking eye contact. He feels self-conscious, all of a sudden, with the way she’s looking at him. His mind keeps wandering, distracted, ironically telling himself to stay in the moment. Savour it, knowing it’ll be one of the last. 

She tires him out, and he only half hears her when she asks if he wants something. There’s a second, where he turns and she isn’t there, the sheets rumpled in her place, and he wonders if it was all a dream. The whole afternoon. The whole summer. 

But then she’s coming back through the door, in nothing but his t-shirt, holding two beers. He knows how dense he must look, staring at her all dopey-eyed, but he can’t help it. She’s a mess, her mascara smudged and hair tousled wildly on her shoulders. And she’s wearing his shirt. Just his shirt. She smells like him, his cologne and his fabric softener, when she climbs back in the bed. She hands him one of the bottles, then clinks hers against it. 

They do, eventually, get to a movie. With the laptop sitting between them, Blair rests her head on his chest, his arm around her. It’s almost like a date, but he doesn’t say it, knowing it would only ruin it. By the film’s end, as Cabiria smiles through her tears, Dan feels Blair heave against him. The shirt he’d thrown on is soaked, and she shivers slightly, burying her face in the wet stain of the fabric.

“No matter how many times I watch this,” she says, “I always cry. But I just love it, don’t you?” 

He hums in response, then kisses her forehead. He expects her to retreat, but she doesn’t. So he keeps it there, his chin on the top of her head. When she does shift, he pulls away immediately, thinking he pushed his luck. But she only smiles faintly, wiping her cheek. 

“Another one?” She says, reaching over to the bedside table and holding up _Roman Holiday._

He doesn’t make it halfway before he’s fast asleep. When he wakes up, he finds Blair’s back pressed against him, his arm holding her waist. He blinks groggily in the darkness for a moment, before he realizes what it was that woke him up. The bang of the front door. The sound of voices. 

It’s too late, by the time Nate’s standing in the doorway to his room.

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Cruel Summer by Taylor Swift


	5. cut to the bone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> None of this should make sense. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short one. The next chapter will be the last <3

He stumbles out of bed, grappling for his pants. The door to his room has been closed again, and he hears voices in the hall. Serena and Nate’s voices, to be exact. 

He slips out of the room, careful to shut the door quietly behind him. From across the hall, Serena’s smile is visible even in the dim light. 

“Hi Dan!” She whispers, waving at him. His whole body feels on hyperdrive. He smiles back in greeting, but it comes across as more of a grimace. 

“Need help with bags?” He says. Nate shakes his head, avoiding his eyes. Dan nods stiffly, then slips back into his room without another word. 

He nudges Blair awake gently, although his hands are shaking. When she opens her eyes, he speaks slowly.

“Nate and Serena are back. I’ll let you know when it’s safe to go out there, but you need to leave.”

Her brow furrows, trying to process this information. 

“Blair, Nate saw us,” he’s too anxious to go about this situation in any intelligent way.

She sits upright.

“What? What do you mean?”

He tries to level his breathing. He can still hear them shuffling across the hall.

“He was just, I looked up and he was there, but I went out and Serena didn’t say anything, so it was just him, but he didn’t say -“

He stops his rambling when she gets out of the bed, searching the floor for the clothes she’d been wearing. She peels his shirt off her, tossing it on the bed. They don’t say anything to each other, while they wait. Dan goes out to check again, and finding the coast clear, comes back to let Blair know. As she tip-toes out the door, he unthinkingly leans in to kiss her goodbye. She moves her face away, closing the door behind her.

The next morning, heart hammering in his chest and not having gotten much sleep, Dan makes his way into the kitchen, where Nate and Anne sit. Nate keeps his eyes on his cup of coffee, not saying much, until Anne leaves, pressing a quick kiss to the side of his head. Dan wishes the Earth would open up and swallow him whole. 

“Okay,” Nate starts. “I’m not going to pretend like I didn’t see anything.”

“Look, I can explain.”

“Hey, man, no need. I get it. You two were alone, and God knows there’s nothing else to do out here. I’ll admit, it’s weird, but it was just one night. Things happen.”

“Oh,” Dan says, because he’s an idiot. “Right. Yes. One night. Things do happen.”

Nate looks at him curiously. 

“Was it more than one night?”

 _Great_ , Dan thinks, _he chooses now to become intuitive._

“It was something like that.”

“Okay,” Nate says again. “Sure.”

“Stranger things have happened,” Dan says lightheartedly, and then, “Don’t tell Serena.”

Nate’s forehead creases, thinking hard.

“I don’t see why it matters.”

“I know, just - Blair wouldn’t want you to. She doesn’t want you to. Just don’t tell her, please.”

Nate nods slowly, taking a sip of his coffee. 

That night, the four of them go for dinner. Blair doesn’t acknowledge him, not even when they’re sitting next to each other in the booth, not even when he hands her down the menu, not even when he asks her if she wants more wine.

Serena tells them stories of Rhode Island, of the old brick buildings and the names of family members that haunt their halls. She’s giddy, leaning into Nate, gushing about how kind his cousins are, how welcoming his grandfather is. He’s watching Blair, of course he’s watching Blair, and he catches her face stiffen, like she’s physically trying not to roll her eyes. 

When they arrive at the Rhodes house, as Blair gets out of the cab, Dan touches the inside of her wrist, just over her pulse point. She withdraws, doesn’t turn around to say goodbye.

  
  


* * *

Blair sits at the vanity in her room, the early morning sun streaming in from behind the sheer curtains, the large mirror framing her face. She rubs her face down with sunscreen. She dabs colour corrector on the spots on her neck, covers them with concealer. She draws a beige pencil along the line of her lips, blots lipstick in the center. Her door creaks open slightly, and in the reflection of the mirror, she sees Serena standing behind her. She doesn’t turn around, just watches Serena wring her hands, purse her lips. 

“B,” she starts, and Blair grips tight to her mascara wand, doesn’t apply it, just lets it hover in front of her face. 

“Nate told me.” 

“Of course he did,” Blair says quietly, organizing her things on the countertop, giving her hands something to do. “He couldn’t help himself.” 

“He said...” Serena lets out a slow breath. “He said it was just happening while we were away. Is that true?” 

Blair doesn’t say anything. There’s no use, Serena won’t believe her. 

“Because, well, it just made a lot of things make sense.” 

_It shouldn’t,_ Blair thinks. _None of this should make sense._

She watches Serena out of the corner of her eye, she looks helpless, like she’s trying to choose her words carefully. 

“Were you planning on telling me?” 

Blair does turn around now, staying in her seat. Serena is so tall, so out of reach. 

“Honestly, Serena? No, I wasn’t.” 

Serena nods, bites her lip. 

“Why not?” 

“What, like you told me when you fucked my boyfriend?” Blair spits, standing up. 

Hurt passes over Serena’s face imperceptibly, then it’s gone.

“I’m not mad at you,” Serena says.

“ _Good_ ,” Blair says churlishly. “Because you don’t have the right to be.”

Serena shakes her head a little, takes a step forward. 

“I know why you’re getting so defensive,” she says slowly. “Can’t you just talk to me?”

“About what, Serena? It doesn’t matter. It’s just _sex_ , you should know something about that.”

Serena’s forehead creases. She takes a seat on the bed, letting out a sigh.

“I don’t need this from you,” she says. “When you’re ready to talk, we can talk.”

Blair storms out of the room in a blaze, then stops, turns abruptly back inside. Her voice is frail, lacking the edge it just had. 

“This is my room,” she says. “Get out.” 

Serena sees her, and there’s a second where it looks like she’ll lean forward, take her in her arms. But she knows Blair well enough. 

When the door latches in place, and the lock clicks, Blair crumbles. Her stomach turns, not having eaten anything yet. They’ll be nothing to throw up. She sobs, her hand to her mouth to stifle the sound. She knows Serena’s still on the other side of the door. 

After a while, laying on the bed on her side, she forgets why she was even crying in the first place. She feels hollow, carved out. Her whole body itches. And then it hits her, what she wants, in that moment, on top of the covers with dried tears sticking her face to the pillow. She wants Dan. To hold her, kiss her forehead like he had before. 

But the realization only makes her cry more. 

In the morning, at the break of dawn when the first bird starts to sing, she wakes up in a daze. Her eyes are almost swollen shut, her neck stiff and aching. She sees something, tucked underneath the door. A ripped page from a notepad, monogrammed at the top with _From the desk of Cecilia Rhodes._

 _I love you_ , it reads, in Serena’s messy cursive. 

Blair holds the note tight to her chest. 

In the afternoon, she hears voices coming from downstairs. She ventures out of her room, and sees him standing at the base of the stairs. She gestures for him to come up. 

He stands silently in her room, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. 

“It could’ve been worse,” he says all of a sudden. “They could’ve caught us in the act.” 

He’s joking, she thinks, and it makes her unreasonably angry. 

“I guess this is it, then,” he says when she doesn’t speak. He’s not looking at her, his eyes stuck to the floor.

“I guess,” she says. 

He nods, letting out something between a hum and a sigh. He moves towards the door, then stops himself. 

“I like you, Blair,” he says. “For whatever that’s worth.”

But he doesn’t wait for her to respond, closing the door behind him. 

_It’s not nothing,_ she thinks. _It’s just not enough._

Not long after, she pads down the hall to Serena’s room and tries the handle, finding the door unlocked. Serena sits up against her headboard, blowing on her painted nails. Her bags sit at the foot of her bed, starting to get packed back up. Blair takes a tentative seat on the edge of the bed. 

“Do you hate me?” 

“I told you I wasn’t mad,” Serena says gently. 

“No, not that. Do you hate me for being a bitch?” 

Serena smiles.

“You’re always a bitch,” and then, “Do you want to talk about it?” 

“ _No_ ,” Blair says pointedly. “I want to _cuddle_.” 

Serena opens her arms, and Blair settles in. Serena presses her cheek to the top of Blair’s head, holding her fingers out in front of them so the polish doesn’t smudge. 

“I just missed you this summer,” Blair says unprompted. 

“I’m right here.” Serena says, and at first Blair gets that tinge of annoyance in her chest, because Serena just doesn’t understand. But then, she thinks, maybe she does. Maybe that’s exactly what Blair needed to hear.

Serena presses a kiss to the top of her head. 

It’s not nothing. It’s just not enough. 

* * *

He hasn’t seen her in three days, which is about as much time as they have left on the island. He’s sleep deprived and homesick, wishing he was back in his own bed, in his own home, instead of being a guest in someone else’s. 

But he knows, back there, under the lowlights of Brooklyn, on his old creaky box spring, she won’t be there. 

They all operate separately, dipping in and out of their respective rooms without much fanfare. It’s unnatural, stiff, like the houses themselves are holding their breath. On the fourth night, the third to last night before they leave, Nate insists they eat together, the five of them, even if it’s just in the dining room. Serena and Blair show up once the food has already been set out, Blair taking a tentative seat across from him, and he feels the three pair of eyes on them. Nate keeps the conversation going, careful not to let it drop into awkward silence. 

And Blair’s looking at him. The whole time, he doesn’t think she takes her eyes off him. When he catches her gaze, she doesn’t look away. 

When dinner is over, they all retreat back to their rooms, him and Eric alone, Nate and Serena together. He catches a glimpse of her in the foyer, but doesn’t turn around as he goes up the stairs. When he shuts the door behind him, he lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. And then, there’s a knock. Quiet, almost unsure. 

She doesn’t say anything when he opens the door. She just reaches up, taking his face in her hands, and kisses him, over and over. They stumble backwards, the door shutting loudly behind her. She’s climbing him, quite literally, backing him against the wall and getting him to pick her up. It’s desperate, the way she’s kissing him, tugging at his clothes. It’s all too fast, it shouldn’t be like this, their last time. He carries her as best as he can to the bed, laying her on her back. He’s over her, pinning her to the bed. He grabs her wrists from where they grapple at his belt, holds them both in one of his hands. She lets out a soft noise, and he squeezes them just a bit tighter, watching her eyes close. She lets him hold her down. She hands him over her control.

He lets go of her wrists to hold her leg up for leverage with one hand, the other between them, working her harshly. Her heels dig into the back of his legs, and she scratches at his back, hard. It’s the roughest they’ve ever done it, careless and almost removed. He wonders if it’s because they aren’t a secret anymore. If everything they had hinged upon that. 

She’s breathing out his name, every thrust positing a whimper from her. Her nails cut crescents into his skin, marking him, and he hopes they’ll bruise, hopes they’ll stay there for at least a little longer after they’ve finished.

She bites down on his shoulder as she comes, not hard enough to really hurt, but just enough to sting. 

When he collapses on the bed next to her, feeling cold suddenly, they don’t say anything. The sound of their heavy breathing fills the room. The lights are off, he realizes, never having turned them on when he first came in. He’s sure they all heard them, the whole house, probably the whole damn island. He doesn’t care, of course he doesn’t, but she does. So he doesn’t kiss her, just stares at the ceiling while she fixes herself. He hears the door close, and for the first time in the last few nights, he falls asleep. 

Serena and Blair leave a day earlier than expected, a car sent by Lily arriving at the gates. He helps them with their things, carrying their monogrammed bags out and setting them on the curb. 

“Careful,” her voice comes from behind him. “That one has my Manolo’s.” 

“I don’t know what that is,” he says lightly, trying to smile. 

She turns around, then glances at him over her shoulder. He gets the message, and follows her to a spot between the hedges. He’d had her there, weeks earlier, had her mouth around him, had her gasping against him. 

They just stand there, her in front of him, looking up under those lashes. He realizes, after a moment, that she’s waiting for him to kiss her. So he does, leaning down to catch her mouth, his arms coming around her hips. She lays her hands flat against his chest. 

She tastes artificially sweet, syrupy. It’s her lip gloss, he realizes, stringing tacky between them. He cups her cheek with his hand, keeps kissing her, and she doesn’t pull away. They break apart for air, both a little breathless, and he presses a small kiss to the side of her mouth. She drops her arms, takes a step back. 

“I’ll see you around,” he says, because he can’t think of anything else. She smiles tightly, making her way back out. 

As she gets to the edge of the opening, she turns. 

“Bye, Dan.”

He lowers himself down onto the grass. He can hear the engine start, the car pull out and drive away. Gone, down the road. He rubs at the back of his neck, where one long scratch still marks him. Soon, that’ll be gone too. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Cruel Summer by Taylor Swift


	6. seal my fate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He sees her across the courtyard. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well here it is, the final chapter! Thank you all so much for reading, I’ve had so much fun writing this. Stay tuned for more fics from me!  
> You can follow me on tumblr [here](https://mysteriesofloves.tumblr.com/)

He sees her across the courtyard. 

The leaves haven’t started to brown yet, but the first sign of dark clouds inch over them. He drags his feet through the grass, not listening to whatever Nate is saying, his backpack slung over his shoulder like it weighs a thousand pounds. It’s the first day of classes, the second day back, and the senioritis has definitely _not_ hit, considering the workload that’s already being dumped on them. 

He hears that familiar shrill of giggles, distant now, when last year it would’ve been right in his face. The minions hound around someone he’s never seen before, their leader seeming bored and uninterested. His stomach turns. That was him, and now he’s here, with Nate Archibald staring blankly at him. 

“You’re staring,” Dan says. 

“ _You’re_ staring, dude.” Nate says. Dan shakes his head. 

“You should go over there and stop her.”

Nate continues to blink at him.

“Blair? She’s not doing anything.”

Just then, as if she hears them, she looks up. Their eyes meet across the courtyard, and he flushes immediately.

One of the girls says something to her, and Blair nods, looks down at her victim and tips his drink into his lap. 

“Well,” Dan says, turning away. “Too late now.”

Not a lot has essentially changed, in that he still only has three friends, he’s just not dating any of them. The only difference to come out of this really is that Blair has stopped terrorizing Jenny completely, acting as if she doesn’t even exist. 

That, and the fact that he never stops thinking about Blair. 

When he sees her prance around the halls, snide smiles and clicking footsteps, he thinks about how he knows what the skin under her stockings, on the inside of her thighs looks like, how pale it is, almost see through. How over time, after spreading them apart under the sun, they got tanned, lightly golden. She’s so tightly wrapped up, protected, and he knows what she looks like completely undone.

When he really wants to torment himself, he goes through the texts they’d sent each other, when Serena would steal her away and Nate would insist they play or watch some sport together. 

**_Serena has that post sex glow._ **

_Yeah no shit I could hear them all morning_

**_No fair. I want to glow._ **

_Come back then_

_I wanna make you moan_

_Give it to u good_

**_Don’t overdo it, Brooklyn. I know how easily you get excited._ **

_I’m getting hard_

**_Of course you are._ **

**_Wait for me, I’ll be there soon._ **

But there’s other things, too. In class, more often than not, someone will say something stupid, and he’ll have the urge to tell her, to hear her laugh and criticize them. He thinks about talking to her a lot, his obscure references and smartass comments going to waste. He got a haircut his first day back in the city, and he wanted her to notice. If she did, she showed no sign of it. 

With Nate and Serena in a perpetual honeymoon state, and Vanessa busy with her work, and his dad crossing state lines on the other side of the country, he spends most of his time alone. He was used to it, of course, he’d always kept to himself growing up. But it’s a stark contrast to the camaraderie of the summer, always having someone near. He’s used to being alone. He's not used to being so lonely. 

The loft feels odd, like it’s drifting in limbo. It feels suffocating, too, compared to the mansions he’d spent his summer in. But it’s the emptiness that restricts him the most. 

Jenny comes home with red rimmed eyes after a fight with Eric, and he knows she doesn’t want to talk about it, because she never does. So instead he makes her something to eat.

He enjoys it, the process, the way it clears his mind. But he especially likes to see her curl up on the couch, hum with delight after the first bite. It makes her look like a little kid again, makes him feel like nothing’s changed.

She coaxes him into watching _Grease_ for a hundredth time, his feet up on the coffee table, his head lolling back in boredom. When the shot rolls up on Olivia Newton-John, cigarette hanging from her mouth, he pokes her arm.

“You remember when you went as Sandy for Halloween in fifth grade?” 

“ _And_ sixth, _and_ seventh.”

He watches that wide tooth grin spread across her face, and guilt clouds over him. 

“I didn’t tell you the truth,” he says abruptly, in a rush. “About Blair and me this summer. We were friends. Good friends, I mean she -“ 

He stops, watches the horror creep in her eyes. 

“Oh god,” she says. “You have a crush on Blair Waldorf, don’t you?” 

“What am I, eight?” He shoves her a little. “Get your gross feet off the couch.”

“Oh my god, I need to send this in as a tip.” 

He looks at her seriously. 

“ _Jenny -“_

“I’m kidding. I can’t believe this. It’s - you’re fucked up, you know that right?” 

He covers his face with his hand, rubs at his eyes. 

“Yeah, yeah. I don’t know what to say, Jen. I just saw a different side of her, something -“

“Stop,” she warns him. “I don’t need to hear this.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, because it feels like the right thing to say.

“It’s whatever, Dan. Just don’t expect me to be your maid of honour.”

He’s about to say something else, but she holds up a finger.

“Quiet, I love this part.” 

By the last week of September, somewhere between when Gossip Girl posts a blast about Blair and Chuck circling each other like competing predators and Nate saying Snap out of it, man, you’re boring when you’re like this, Dan thinks it might be time to give up. They had been doomed from the start, he reminded himself. It’s his own fault for getting too involved, for treating it as more than it was. He would never be her _boyfriend_ , his skin pricks just at the thought, if he were ever foolish enough to say it to her. 

But it doesn’t make him want it any less. 

So he should give up, whatever that means, drown out his feelings in all the things kids on the Upper East Side drown themselves in. He knows he won’t, but he should at least give it a thought.

He finally unpacks his bag, slinging his crumpled summer clothes into the laundry hamper. Folded neatly on the bottom, the dress shirt and white pants, a little creased, but mostly in good shape. There had been people who did the laundry for them, at the Archibald house. Pressed and folded. He takes them out, throwing them into a drawer of his dresser. From in between, something flutters out onto the floor. He picks it up, turning it in his hands. 

She smiles up at him. That small, timid smile.

The next morning, in the middle of the announcement board, he sees her name, bold and underlined. _Constance Billard’s Essay Contest Winner._

Dan’s always been a sucker for signs, especially when they’re staring him right in the face. 

* * *

She sees him across the courtyard.

He’s watching her intently, brows furrowed, and he doesn’t look away when she catches him. It makes her edgy, almost nervous. _He_ should not be making _her_ nervous.

It doesn’t get any better, the more he looks at her. He gives her once over glances when leaning against the lockers, fixates on her from across the halls. She can’t exactly avoid him, seeing that the only friends she has are also the only friends he has. But he never says a word, and neither does she. He only looks, and she looks back, but even that stops. She can’t take it, how timid she feels under his gaze. She let him see so much of her, in so little time. So she stops looking back.

Everything is horribly dull. Tormenting has lost its thrill, and she’s irritated by Chuck’s tired routine of picking fights to try and wear her down and get her back. 

She finds there’s a certain loneliness to living in the city. The lights never go out, hardly ever even dim. At least in the summer the streets went quiet, only the sound of the waves crashing in the distance. At least in the summer she woke up with someone next to her. 

She lays on Serena’s bed, textbooks discarded and forgotten, a slew of clothes in every colour, fabric, and pattern spread around the room. They’re cleaning out Serena’s closet, looking for things to donate to some charity event Anne is holding. 

Blair pulls a sleek gold dress off the floor, holds it up for inspection. 

“Oh,” Serena says, ducking her head out from the closet and pushing her hair out of her face. “I forgot about that. That would look good on you.” 

_It would never fit me_ , Blair thinks, and throws the dress in the donate pile. 

Serena drops the Zanotti stilettos she’s holding and climbs onto the bed, pushing the textbooks farther down. She curls up next to Blair, bats her eyelashes.

“You’re so huffy,” she says. “You wanna talk about it?”

“What is it with you and talking? Can’t a girl mope?” 

Serena raises her eyebrows.

“I thought you were above teen angst.”

Blair stares at the ceiling, her hands folded on her stomach. 

“I am seemingly not above anything.” 

There’s a beat, and then,

“Do you miss him?” Serena says, her voice slightly muffled by the pillow. 

Blair rolls her eyes, gives a halfhearted scoff. 

“I’ve been there,” Serena says. “I mean, I _know_ him. It would be okay if you did.” 

“You _dated_ him. The only thing lamer than _dating_ Dan Humphrey is _mourning_ Dan Humphrey.”

But she finds herself blinking, turning her face away from Serena. 

Because she does miss him, at night with her hands down her silk pajama’s. Under her uniform, she puts on her favourite lingerie, and faintly wishes he’d gotten to see her in it. She hadn’t brought anything too fancy with her, assuming she wasn’t going to need it. He wouldn’t have cared anyway, would’ve scoffed at how much one piece of lilac lace or a silk teddy costs. But she’d liked the way he looked at her in her swimsuits, like he couldn’t help but stare. How he’d peel them off her, kiss her lips swollen, tell her she was so beautiful, god, you’re so beautiful. It made her burn from the inside out, because it wasn’t supposed to be like that. He wasn’t supposed to say those things. But it was like he couldn’t help himself.

She misses his warmth, his chest always feeling like a fireplace under her touch. She misses their arguments, how he’d never let her win, how he’d prolong them just to get her going. She misses his kindness, how he looked at her, like he knew everything and saw everything and still touched her like she was made of precious metals. 

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. She wasn’t supposed to be so hung up on a summer fling with some boy from Brooklyn. 

But he’s not just some boy, she thinks. He’s Dan Humphrey. She can’t decide if that makes it better or worse.

She knew she would win, because losing was never an option. But it still feels good, after months of uncertainty, of things going the exact opposite of what she expected, to have something turn out just the way she planned. She didn’t even have to sabotage anyone else’s chances. They chose her.

It’s the first real cold night, and she takes a quick swing of whiskey, warmth spreading through her chest. Her mom said she’d call tonight, but it’s midnight there and she probably fell asleep, overworked and tired. Nate has lacrosse practice. Serena’s fighting with her mom, and because Blair didn’t want to know the details, she let it pass.

She’s not nervous, because she was born for this, for moments when an overcrowded room of wealthy party goers would beam up at her, clap for her. But she does feel incredibly alone. There’s not a single person there that cares, really cares, about how good she did. That was proud of her. 

The spotlight hits hot across her face. They’re all still clapping, so Blair waits, lets out a drawn out breath to prepare for her speech. 

It’s hard to see, under the lights, but she makes him out. The familiar silhouette of him. The familiar smile. 

Their eyes meet from across the room, and she feels herself glitter. She’s always been terribly romantic. 

* * *

He hangs around after the ceremony is over, holding a drink he hasn’t taken a sip of, although he should, to calm his nerves. 

He sees her from across the room, as she makes her way over to him. She has a black bow tied around her neck, her headband sparkling wildly under the lights. It feels surreal for a moment, too good to be true, like she’ll push right past him.

“Are you lost, Humphrey?” But there isn’t anything in her tone, or face, that suggests she’s teasing.

She takes a deep breath when she comes up to him, standing just a bit too close.

“You came,” she says, a little disbelieving.

“I did. I knew your mom wouldn’t, and Nate said he and Serena couldn’t make it and I -“ _Wanted to be here for you._ “I’m rambling.”

She nods slowly, sucking in a smile like a lollipop.

“Your specialty.” 

“I read it,” he says. “The essay. It was good. Really good.” 

“I know,” she says. “That’s why they chose it.”

“Yeah,” he says, his voice quiet. “I would’ve chosen it too.” 

The light catches the gloss on her lips, and she’s right there, he could just dip down and kiss her.

“I should go,” he says instead. “I know it’s early but I - I just think I should go.”

She’s not saying anything, just looking up at him.

“Are you okay to get home?”

Something flickers in her eyes, but it’s gone just as fast. She nods.

“Okay, I’ll - I’ll see you on Monday, then.”

He takes a step back, just about to turn around.

“Dan,” she says, and it makes him freeze a little. Just the way she says it - it sounds like a secret. “Thank you.” 

He nods, then makes his way out. He takes one last look over his shoulder, and she’s still standing there, looking at him.

He puts on a movie that he doesn’t watch, an empty can of beer rolling on the floor by his feet. He could only stomach one, not able to bring himself to make anything to eat. He shifts endlessly on the couch, the figures flitting across the screen uncaring. He’s just about to drift to sleep when the knock comes. He wonders if he ordered delivery and completely forgot, or if Jenny got into a fight with Eric and came running back home. 

But when he pulls the door open, Blair stands in front of him. 

A million things run through his mind, but just in case this _isn’t_ a dream, he decides to keep composure. 

“Blair Waldorf in Brooklyn,” he says softly. “Are you lost?”

She’s standing feet away from him, dark shadows cast over her face. But he sees her smile. 

“Gossip Girl could’ve seen you,” he says. 

“Yes,” she says. “She could’ve.” 

But their phones don’t buzz, only the distant sounds of traffic filling the air between them. 

“Is Jenny...?” 

He shakes his head. 

“She’s at Eric’s. It’s a ghost town in here.” 

Then he steps aside to let her in. 

“It’s funny,” he says, because the quiet is too much. “They remind me of you two, you and Serena.”

He doesn’t explain, but she hums a little, like she understands. He takes in a deep breath. 

“Uh, could I get you something to drink?”

She shakes her head. She’s changed, he notices, her top now cream coloured with small silver buttons. But the black bow is still tied around her throat. Her eyes hover over the room, then stop on the screen of his laptop. 

“ _Rosemary’s Baby,_ ” she says. “I love this movie.” 

“I know,” he says. “You told me.”

They just stand there, out of reach of each other, the air stiff. 

“Thank you,” she says. “For coming tonight.” 

“You said that already,” he says gently. 

“I know. But it means a lot to me. Especially after everything. I didn’t think... I didn’t think you’d want to see me.” 

“Are you kidding? Blair, I tried to stay away because I thought you didn’t want to see _me_.”

Her hands tighten around the handle of her bag. 

“I didn’t,” she says, her voice so quiet it’s almost a whisper. “I couldn’t stand it. I had to leave. Nate left. Chuck left. I had to leave. I had to - before you could.” 

“I wouldn’t have left, Blair.” 

“I know,” she says, and he pretends he doesn’t hear how frail her voice is. “I know that now.” 

“Do you still like me?” She says. “Or did I screw that up?”

“I like you,” he says. “I really, really like you.”

She doesn’t hesitate, dropping her bag, her footsteps echoing loudly all around him as she comes up, her arms around his neck, her mouth on his. He pushes a hand through her hair, her headband clattering on the floor. 

He takes it in, the warm, powdery smell of her perfume. The sticky sweetness of her lip gloss. The way her tongue slides against his eagerly. They stumble around a little, Blair losing her balance on her high heels and Dan catching her, holding her up. They laugh as they try to maneuver to the bedroom, everything incredibly unsexy until she has him on the bed, straddling his hips. He pulls at the bow on her neck and it unravels for him, opens up. 

It’s so much more complicated than it was in the summer, so many buttons and ties and clasps. He runs his hands under her skirt, and - _oh god,_ she’s wearing _garters_. He brings his hands over her ass, kneading hard, and she gasps, her mouth lifting off his slightly.

“Wait, I want -“ she has to catch her breath to speak. “I want to switch places.”

He flips her around onto her back, and she laughs, a shrill little sound. He’s finally able to get her skirt off, her shirt open, and he’s taken aback a little, when he sees her. She’s wearing a black bustier and matching sheer panties. For him. She’s wearing them for him. He can’t help himself, running a hand down her, feeling the lace on her breasts. He feels her heart beat hard against her chest.

“Hurry _up_.”

He shakes his head, laughing a little, embarrassed. 

“How do I get this thing off?”

She sits up impatiently, untying the back of it herself, throwing it off unceremoniously. He catches her before she can lay back down, kisses her deep, one hand thumbing over her nipple, the other dipping behind the lace of her panties, feeling if she’s ready for him. She rocks her hips against his touch, resting back into the bed.

“Now,” she whines, “I need you now.”

If he could, he would tease her endlessly, say _What was that?_ give it to her slow until she’s begging. But he can’t. He can’t think of anything but her warmth, of having her around him again. So he doesn’t waste anymore time.

She presses her cheek against his, her mouth at his ear.

“I haven’t been with anyone else,” she says, and it releases a tension he’d been carrying with him. He couldn’t have known for sure, but he’d hoped. “I haven’t wanted to, because I only wanted you. I - I thought about you, every time I touched myself -“

He stops her with a kiss, not able to handle her saying things like that, not wanting her to say something she’ll regret in the morning. 

It’s not like any of the times before. They don’t break eye contact, their noses bumping each time he rocks into her. He knows everything she likes, how to make her come the quickest. And he gives it to her, all of it, over and over, until her moans are ringing loudly in his ears. He presses soft kisses on her jaw, her cheek, her lips. She wraps her fingers in his hair to steer him back deeper into her mouth, then pulls him away. _Dan_ , she gasps, _Dan, Dan, Dan._ Because she knows what he likes too. 

They lay wrapped in each other after, their breathing synced. The room is dark, no sliver of moonlight casting over them the way it had in the clear summer sky. There’s still dull traffic noises from the street, and a glow emanates from the kitchen light. It’s cold, he realizes, and he pulls the covers over her. But she pushes them off, sits up, leaning over the bed to the floor. She picks up the flannel he was wearing, wraps herself in it, does the buttons up delicately.

“Your bed is awful,” she says. “You need to get this replaced.” 

He catches the back of her neck before she can lay back down and kisses her. 

“We’ll try yours next time.” 

She smiles, curling back into him, resting her head on his shoulder. She scratches at his chest idly. 

“I like you too,” she says. “I don’t think I said that earlier.”

He smiles into her hair. 

“I got the message.”

She pinches his skin with her nails lightly, but he feels her mouth turn up. 

He rubs a thumb across her hip.

“If we’re going to do this,” he says. “I don’t want to sneak around.”

It’s not true. He’d do it even if he had to, he’d do anything just to stay like this, but it’s too soon to tell her that. 

She brings her head up to look at him, then presses a lingering kiss on his lips.

“Can you make me something to eat?” 

He nods. 

“Anything you want.” 

* * *

On Monday, the four of them eat lunch on the steps, the early autumn breeze blowing over them. It’s going to start raining soon, they can feel it in the air. 

Their phones vibrate before they’ve even taken a bite. Nate checks it cautiously, holds it up for a moment, something about _Lonely Boy turns Lordly Boy_ , then puts it away. 

When they get back to school, all eyes are trained on them. It’s ridiculous, she thinks, all these kids standing in the courtyard with their phones at the ready. 

But Blair’s always liked to put on a show. 

So when Nate and Serena share a parting kiss, before going in opposite directions, she pulls him down by his tie, just slightly, and kisses him. 

They’re all watching, but she doesn’t care, because she feels him smile against her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Cruel Summer by Taylor Swift  
> 

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Summer Girl by HAIM  
> Chapter title from Cruel Summer by Taylor Swift
> 
> The next chapter will be up soon, subscribe so you don’t miss it!


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